


Nothing Wrong When a Song Ends in a Minor Key

by R_S_B



Series: What's gone is gone, and you can't bring it back around [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 23:00:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13374891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/R_S_B/pseuds/R_S_B
Summary: Back in the Prime Universe, Katrina is recovering from her ordeal with the Klingons when she runs into an old friend and gets some bad news.





	Nothing Wrong When a Song Ends in a Minor Key

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place after Into the Forest I Go. 
> 
> The title is from the Fiona Apple song, Werewolf.
> 
> And finally, many thanks to Helen8462 for her feedback on this story.

The first thing she hears is her voice.

Katrina’s brain is still fuzzy; no matter how much she tries to focus, she can’t make out the words. But she’d recognize that voice anywhere. For a brief moment, she flashes back to their Academy dorm, and Afsaneh is trying to get her out of bed. But even in her current state, she knows that isn't real. That was many years, and many light-years, away from where they are now.

She opens her mouth, but it’s dry, and her tongue sticks a little. “Ahh… “ There's a rustle near her head, and she moves towards it automatically, eyes blinking groggily. She swallows, tries again. “Aa… Afsaneh?”

There's a hand in hers before she can see the other woman clearly. “Katrina. How are you feeling?” The voice is soft and low and warm, and wraps around her like a blanket.

She squeezes the hand, not wanting it to disappear, and blinks again, the woman next to her bed finally coming into view.

Afsaneh smiles at her when their eyes meet. Her dark hair, still jet black, is pulled back in a neat twist. She looks older than the last time Katrina saw her, her face more deeply lined than she remembered. Although after the year she’s had, that all of them have had, some new worry lines seem like a small price to pay.

“I don't know,” Katrina admitted, “I'm still pretty groggy.”

“That's understandable. You only got out of surgery an hour ago.”

 _Surgery. Yes, that’s what happened._ The memories came to her in a flood. _The emergency evacuation shuttle. The Klingons._ Discovery _._

“My… my legs?”

Katrina thought there might have been a pause before Afsaneh responded. “The doctors say you should be able to make a full recovery.”

“What aren’t you telling me?” Afsaneh had always been a shitty liar. Not like Gabe.

Here she definitely hesitated. “Your recovery could be long. They said you will have to relearn how to walk. It might have been easier to repair the damage if they’d been able to treat you immediately, but… “

_“Admiral, I’m Specialist Michael Burnham.” Even through the pain and the certainty that she was going to die on that godforsaken coffin ship, she felt the beginning of a tension headache pressing at the back of her skull. First the unauthorized mission to save the ambassador, and now he was sending their convicted mutineer onto enemy vessels? She’d long been convinced he took joy in making her job more difficult, but he’d really taken himself to new heights of infuriating recently._

_Burnham looked her up and down. “Can you move?”_

_“I can’t feel my legs.” It had been that way ever since she’d woken up after the fight with L’Rell in the corridor. She’d found herself in a cramped room full of dead Klingon bodies, her body bruised and bloodied, and no sensation in her legs. She couldn’t be sure how long it had been since then._

_Hours._

_Days._

_She’d surely be joining the dead soon._

_“State your mission, Specialist Burnham.”_

_“Captain Lorca dispatched us to install sensors aboard this ship so we could break the Klingon cloak.”_

Dammit, Gabe. Can’t stop being the hero, can you? _Dimly, she wondered if he even had authorization for the mission this time._

But she had to hand it to him. Burnham was good. And all three of them had made it out: her, Burnham, and even the lieutenant suffering from PTSD. Katrina let her eyes fall closed and squeezed Afsaneh’s hand. “Well, it could be worse.”

“Yes. You _could_ be dead.”

The words were delivered as a matter of fact; there was no accusation in her tone. Nonetheless, Katina’s eyes flew open and she licked her lips nervously. “I’m sorry, Afsaneh. I— I should have reached out. When Pippa… “ She struggled to bring herself to say it and Afsaneh cut her off before had to.

“I meant nothing by my words, Katrina. Please—“

“It killed me,” she insisted, “that I couldn’t make it back to Earth for the funeral. We were in the Beta Quadrant and I couldn’t get away. I watched the live news feed of her funeral.” Afsaneh didn’t respond, and Katrina continued. “I’m so, so sorry Afsaneh.” She wanted to say something, anything, that could reflect the deeply felt loss of one of Starfleet’s most decorated captains. But what could you say to someone who had felt that devastating, public loss so intimately?

Another memory from the Academy surfaced, this time of Pippa and Afsaneh holding hands under the desk while they worked, stealing kisses when they thought Katrina wasn’t looking.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again.

Afsaneh nodded. “You should get some rest.”

Katrina sighed and settled back onto the biobed. Afsaneh was turning away when she remembered.

“Wait! I have to talk to you. Captain Lorca—“

Afsaneh put a hand on her shoulder. “Soon, I promise. First, you need rest.”

* * *

When Katrina woke up the second time, her mind was much clearer. She tried to sit up, pushing up on an elbow, but didn’t get very far. Her whole body felt heavy, and her elbow slipped out from under her. She winced as she hit the bed.

Medical assistants appeared immediately at her side. “Admiral, lay down, you shouldn’t be sitting up yet.”

Katrina gritted her teeth. “I’ll sit up if I damn well please.”

“Admiral, please,” another medical assistant said from her other side. “You are still recovering. Your body can’t support your weight right now. If you want to sit up, we can adjust your bed.”

“Fine,” she muttered.

Once the bed was fully adjusted, Katrina turned to the young woman next to her in a white uniform. “What is your name?”

“Oh! Um, I’m Lana, sir. Lana Silva.”

Katrina smiled. _No need to terrorize the staff_. “Lana. I need to talk to the Commodore as soon as possible.”

Lana nodded promptly. “Of course, Admiral.”

She scurried off while the other medical assistant began to run a tricorder over her. Medical staff moved in and out of the room as she waited for Afsaneh to arrive. She was able to get some basic information from them. They were on Starbase 88, and she’d only been out about a day since her rescue. Everyone was abuzz with the news of the battle. A solution to the Klingon cloak! The war would surely be over soon! And all thanks to the bravery and ingenuity of one Captain Gabriel Lorca and the crew of the _USS_ _Discovery_. She gritted her teeth whether she heard Gabe’s name come out of someone's mouth.

It was going to make what she needed to do much more difficult.

By the time Afsaneh appeared again, she'd eaten and was feeling almost normal. It made her uncomfortable to be unable to move so much of her body, but she had sensation back at least, which was a tremendous improvement over the previous situation.

She smiled as Afsaneh appeared in her doorway. “Commodore Paris.”

The other woman returned her smile with a nod. “Admiral.” She moved to the side of Katrina’s bed. “You seem to be recovering well.”

Katrina nodded. “What are you doing here? I thought you were still—“

Another nod. “I was already thinking of asking for a new posting when they offered me this. It’s a much larger station. Quite the promotion, I suppose.”

She didn’t elaborate as to the reason why she’d wanted a new posting, but it didn’t take a degree in psychology to imagine why. Anyone would need a change of scenery after the death of someone so dear. That station held years of memories.

Memories of Pippa.

When Katrina had been twenty-nine, about to finish her residency, Gabe had suggested he arrange for her to get a position as a counselor on the ship he was serving on. They could be together; have a real relationship. She’d told him no and taken a prestigious fellowship at Starfleet Medical. As soon as everything was finalized, she’d had second thoughts. Told herself that if he came after her - _no please, come with me!_ \- she’d agree. But he hadn’t and life had moved on.

When she imagined how Afsaneh must have struggled in the last year, she didn’t regret her choice for a second.

“We need to talk, Afsaneh. I need to arrange a call with Command as soon as possible.”

Afsaneh’s brow furrowed and she looked at her in concern. “What is it, Kat?”

“It’s about Gabe.”

* * *

It had been a long time coming, she supposed. Ever since the _Buran_.

It had seemed only natural that after the loss of his entire crew, that he would be a little more closed off, a little more prickly. Considering what had happened, it was amazing he was dealing with it as well as he was. So she'd ignored the personality changes, the new quirks, the increasingly reckless disregard for the rules. After all, the man got results. And surely, if there was a real problem, the counselor who declared him fit for duty would have caught it. Novak was fantastic. Katrina had trained him herself.

And yet, she knew something was off. Gabe’s behavior was getting more erratic, not less. So she had gone to see for herself.

_Gabe had been evasive as usual. She’d expected that. So when he suggested the scotch, she was more than willing. Anything that would let him relax those carefully maintained barriers and defense mechanisms. It wasn’t exactly an approved clinical technique, but with Gabe, she’d do whatever she had too._

_It burned pleasantly on her tongue and when he put his hand on her thigh and smiled, she couldn’t deny she was interested. Maybe his inhibitions weren’t the only ones being lowered that night. And she’d always had a weakness for that smile…_

_Gabe’s hands were strong and sure and his mouth tasted of scotch. Being with him was familiar, even after all these years, a dance they’d performed many times before. But that didn’t take any of the thrill from it. Being with Gabe was always a battle, a fight for dominance, one they both liked to win. But that night she wanted him in a good mood so she’d let him prevail._

_He bent her over roughly and grasped her hips, and when he thrust into her, her moans were muffled in his bedclothes. When she got close, she reached a hand between her legs, fingers stroking frantically, but he swatted her hand away and replaced it with his own. She came hard and fast, screaming into his pillow and he followed quickly, thrusting into her faster until he was spent._

_He curled around her when they were finished, voice low and rough in her ear. “God, I’ve missed you, Katrina.”_

_She climbed out of bed to clean up and he’d followed a few minutes later. They giggled over sharing his toothbrush and she slapped him playfully on the ass and made him jump. He shot her a wicked grin and for a moment, she wondered if this is what it would have been like if they’d made different decisions. Giggling naked in the bathroom. His hand nudging gently at her waist as he pushed past her to reach the towel on the other side of the sink. A kiss pressed against her cheek. Could this have been theirs if she hadn’t taken that fellowship? If he'd fought for her a little harder?_

_She pulled her panties and undershirt back on to sleep in, and when she followed him back into bed, she felt reasonably certain that everything was fine. Gabe was her friend. She could trust him. He wasn’t hiding anything._

She hated that she was wrong. She was fucking _pissed_ that he’d put her in this position.

* * *

Katrina wheeled into Afsaneh’s office. She was back in uniform, and more importantly, she was finally mobile again. She’d spoken with the doctors at length and knew she was looking at months of physical therapy before she’d be able to walk again, but that was a minor concern to her. Being stuck in that hospital bed had been driving her mad, and now she was free.

And she had work to do.

She stopped the wheelchair next to Afsaneh and nodded. The holographic representations of Admirals Garcia and Terral, and Vice Admiral Patterson glimmered to life in front of them. Admiral Terral straightened. “The Commodore informed us you have new information on the _Discovery_.”

Katrina nodded. “On Captain Lorca, yes.”

_He’d fallen asleep next to her, laying on his side, facing away, and she’d begun tracing the scars on his back. Some of them were old, and she knew them almost as well as if they’d been her own. Other were new, and she couldn’t help wondering how he’d gotten them. She dragged a finger down a raised scar under his shoulder._

_The next thing she knew, she was on her back and Gabe’s hand was on her throat, a phaser pushing up under her chin. His eyes were crazed and she didn’t dare breathe._

_She saw the moment he came back, guilt and terror flooding his face. He sagged forward, letting go of her and tossing the phaser away._

_“I’m sorry.”_

_Sorry?_

_Sorry wasn’t fucking good enough._

Admiral Garcia piped up from her left. “As I’m sure you are aware, Captain Lorca is currently on his way to Starbase 46, where he is to be awarded with the Legion of Honor.”

“I am,” she replied. “I don’t have concerns with any of his specific command decisions.” _At least not that I am currently voicing out loud_. “I am, however, deeply concerned about his well-being and future stability.” She remembered how his phaser had pressed into her throat and she shivered. “I have serious doubts about his mental fitness. I suspect that losing the _Buran_ impacted him more than anyone realized and he needs immediate evaluation.”

Garcia’s eyebrows shot up. Terral shook his head. “But he _was_ evaluated after the _Buran_. He’s been cleared for duty.”

“As I am well aware; I’ve reviewed the records myself. But when I spoke to him prior to my capture by the Klingons, he admitted to me that he lied to pass the evaluations. His recent behavior indicates that he is highly paranoid and probably suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder. He needs _help_.” She took a deep breath. “And until he gets it, he cannot be trusted with command of the _Discovery_.”

A murmur rippled through the holographic projections before her.  “Captain Lorca is a hero!” Garcia exclaimed. “He may have just won the war for us. And you would take away his command?”

“This is not about punishment,” she insisted. “He needs _help_. And it’s our job to get him that help.”

“What kind of behavior are you talking about, exactly?” Patterson asked.

“As I told you, he admitted to lying on his psych evals. He has also started sleeping with a phaser under his pillow and he--”

Garcia interrupted her. “How exactly do you know he keeps a phaser under his pillow?”

Her irritation at everything, at Gabe, her fellow Admirals from Command, the Klingons, this entire shitty situation, came together in that moment and she bit out “How the fuck do you _think_ I know, _Bob_?”

Garcia looked away, unable to meet her gaze, and Patterson blushed. Terral was imperturbable as always. Afsaneh snorted softly behind her and she pushed her irritation down. _Not helpful, Katrina_. “He nearly shot me with the damn thing when I woke him up.” She was greeted with stunned silence. “That sort of exaggerated startle response is a classic symptom of post-traumatic stress. You see why this needs to be addressed immediately.”  

Garcia looked thoroughly disconcerted by the news and he nodded. “Of course you are correct, Admiral Cornwell. We will have to discuss further how to balance the security concerns. You understand.”

Katrina’s jaw tightened but she nodded. She did. She really did. They were at war, and nothing would matter anymore if they were all killed. Winning the war was of tantamount importance. But if they thought Gabe could be trusted to help in that war, then they were too blinded by his successes to be thinking clearly. “There are other captains,” she reminded them. “And now that we have the secret to getting around the cloak, we will be much less dependent on the _Discovery_.”

“Of course, Admiral,” Terral assured her cooly. “We will take it under advisement.”

* * *

Katrina was wheeling herself down the corridor several days later, on her way to physical therapy, when she heard her name called over the PA system on the station.

“Vice Admiral Katrina Cornwell, your presence is requested in the command center.”

She changed direction immediately, heading for the command center as quickly as possible. When she entered, Afsaneh was already in conversation with Admiral Terral.

“What do you mean, _missing_?” she was demanding.

Terral’s hologram shimmered. “Just that. We don’t have any information--”

Katrina wheeled in next to Afsaneh. “What’s going on?”

Terral nodded at her. “Admiral.”

Katrina returned the nod and waited for an answer.

“The _Discovery_ was due to arrive at Starbase 46 today, but failed to appear. We immediately commenced a full search, but so far, we have found no trace of them.”

Katrina felt her stomach drop through the floor. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? Were they destroyed?”

“As I was just explaining to the Commodore, we don’t know anything. There’s no evidence of a battle, nor any wreckage. No evidence of spatial anomalies. It’s like they just... disappeared.”

“A _Crossfield_ -class Federation starship doesn’t just disappear!” Katrina snapped.

Terral looked at her serenely, and she wanted to hit him. “We don’t have an explanation for it. All we know is that it’s gone.” He paused. “I know you and Captain Lorca were… were good friends. I’m sorry, Katrina.”

_Good friends?_

_He lied to me. He lied to everyone. He can't be trusted._

Katrina frowned. “Wait. If the _Discovery_ is gone… “

Terral nodded in confirmation. “We don’t have the Klingon cloak-breaking algorithm they developed or any of the data they collected.”

Her heart sank. Afsaneh gasped. All of the sudden the war that had seemed all but over loomed over them even more ominously than ever before. Katrina took a deep breath. “Okay. We have to assume the _Discovery_ is gone. I need all our intelligence on Klingon activity since the conflict over Pahvo. If any of the houses made a grab to fill the power vacuum left after Kol was taken out.”

“I’ll have everything sent over.”

Katrina nodded. “Good. Call a strategy session. We will meet in one hour.”

Terral nodded. “I’ll make the arrangements.” His hologram blinked out.

A hand rested on her shoulder and Katrina looked up at the woman standing next to her. Afsaneh squeezed her shoulder and looked down at her with knowing, haunted eyes.

_He can’t be gone._

_He can’t._

Katrina set her shoulders. _Time to get to work_.


End file.
